


Pearl of the Danube

by FunnyLittleOwl



Series: home is wherever i'm with you [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Budapest, Developing Relationship, First Time, Fluff, Intense Conversations, M/M, Part of the travel!series, Post-Season/Series 01, Sightseeing, Tourists, Victor is hopelessly in love and very patient, Victor's Backstory, World Travel, Yuuri does not understand the meaning of "engagement", a lot of fluff, angsty bits, insecure!Yuuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-22 19:09:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10703268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FunnyLittleOwl/pseuds/FunnyLittleOwl
Summary: “I’ve always had this theory about love… it also applies to the places I travel to,” Victor explained, as he fiddled with Yuuri’s ring. “It’s probably the reason why I stayed single for so long. I once decided the secret to the most enrapturing passions were their unpredictability. The ones that caught you unaware, slowly involved you, and when you realized, you were irrevocably gone – arrow to the heart, no refunds. It’s what I’ve… always been looking for. In relationships, in life in general.”“I see,” Yuuri assented, wondering how that related to their present situation.(In which it's the immediate aftermath of Yuuri's decision to stay with Victor in competitive skating for another year, they're in Budapest, Yuuri does not have a language kink and Victor mingles with the common folk.)





	Pearl of the Danube

**Author's Note:**

> Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We'll be now flying to Budapest, the Pearl of the Danube.
> 
> I knew I had to turn this into a travel!series. You don't need to read the first part to understand this one, although I highly recommend it because it takes place in Barcelona during the finals. We are now approaching uncharted post-canon territory, so fasten your seat belts and prepare for take-off.

 

“Where are we off to next?” Victor asked, as soon as Yuuri stumbled off his lap.

Yuuri squinted at him, not only to convey his obvious confusion. He didn’t think he would ever get used to being blinded by camera flashes every time the Russian attacked him at the proximity of the rink, but this time, _he_ was the one jumping Victor and tackling him to the ground, so Yuuri guessed the press were having a field day as it was – Grand Prix Finals and all. He reluctantly let them do their job in peace.

That wasn’t why he was squinting, though.

“What do you mean?” he asked carefully, dreading the way he thought this was going. “We still haven’t decided where we’re going after this, remember?”

Although Victor had only just confessed his wish to compete and remain as Yuuri’s coach for the next season, Yuuri couldn’t help but echo his own thoughts from the night before, when he panicked about all the possibilities that haunted his dreams once the Finals that were tying them together have come and gone.

It was like unleashing a dam.

Would they stay in Hasetsu and train in the Ice Castle? Would Victor Nikiforov keep practicing his record-breaking programs in a small rink in rural Japan? Away from his own coach? No, Yuuri couldn’t do that to him. Would Yuuri have to move to Russia then? Away from his family and friends once again in a foreign country? Where were they going to live? Were they going to live together _at all_? Long distance was also a plausible solution. What about visas? Were they even engaged for real this time? Did they ever clear that one up after all? But either way, it wasn’t like Yuuri had won gold, so maybe their arrangement was off? Yuuri truly should have asked, but then, they were busy…

Victor’s eyes widened when he picked up on Yuuri’s discomfort.

“I mean, we _are_ travelling the world together now, aren’t we? You promised me,” he replied cheerfully, like that solved anything. “Where do you want to visit next? Possibly right after this. I can’t wait! Are you ready, _solnyshko_?”

“Yes,” Yuuri laughed in relief, realizing what this was about, “But, Victor, I still have my costume on.”

When Victor didn’t seem to understand, he continued. “From the program I just skated. And won silver. We’re still waiting for the exhibition stake. And the banquet. We can’t just _leave_.”

“Well, I didn’t mean right _now_ , did I?” Victor teased.

“I can never tell with you!”

“We’ll stay for the exhibition skate, of course,” he winked. “Not the banquet, though. Can’t risk another Sochi…”

Yuuri flicked him weakly across the face for that. Victor didn’t miss a beat, grabbed Yuuri’s hand, and kissed his knuckles. “You know I’m kidding, baby. But seriously. Anywhere you want, just roll the globe. Actually…”

He pulled something out of his coat and started to unwrap it. Yuuri stared at him dumbfounded when a paper was finally given to him.

“Do you always carry the map of Europe with you at all times?”

“You never know when you might want to run away with your fiancé,” Victor smiled brilliantly. “But this is actually my gift to you for your victory. I’ve been planning it for quite some time. Before duty calls us once more, I think we should take a few days off to relax before Christmas. So… I’m gonna ask you to close your eyes now – and this is the fun part, Yuuri, pay attention – and wherever your finger lands is where we’re flying to tomorrow.”

At some point during Victor’s speech, Yuuri had thrown his arms around the older man’s neck and started hugging him like his very life depended on it.

“Victor,” he muttered, “You didn’t have to. You know you need to be back on the ice as soon as possible. But this is… thank you. Thank you so much. You’re ridiculous, did you know that? Anywhere my finger points to? What if it points to a small village in the middle of Romania? What then?”

“Then we rent a hut in said provincial village in Romania and I’ll do my best to keep you warm in the harsh, cold nights.”

Yuuri could kiss him. He did.

“Ridiculous.”

“Well, I’m not the one landing us in every Spanish tabloid by tomorrow morning,” Victor replied smugly, “Not that I’m complaining, though I’m sure any second now we’re gonna hear the muffled cries from Phichit screaming at his phone in the changing room.”

“This is hardly news,” Yuuri acquiesced with a blush. “But you’re right, let’s make sure no one finds out where we’re going. We wouldn’t want to be followed to our quiet hut in Romania, especially by Phichit’s rabid Instagram followers.”

“No, we would not,” Victor agreed, taking Yuuri by the hand and leading him to a more private area, away from the public eye. He mentioned to Yuuri, many years later, that they had been live on the stadium’s big screen that entire time. He never mentioned how he winked at Camera 8 as they left.

“So,” Victor smirked, as he lay down the map on the cafeteria’s table, “Will you do me the honors, _lyubov moya_?”

Yuuri made mental notes to research all the pet names Victor was starting to call him in Russian – but that wasn’t pressing now.

He closed his eyes and then proceeded to make a ceremony out of their mystery travel game, trying not to smile as he wiggled his arms over the paper like a sorcerer casting a spell.

“Who’s ridiculous now,” he heard Victor whisper fondly, and Yuuri was glad he succeeded to make his coach laugh with his shenanigan, but that was just how grateful he was for his present. He’d play the fool for Victor any day.

“Shhhh, do not interrupt while the fingers are thinking.”

“Oh, right.”

He flicked his wrist one final time and dramatically posed his index finger somewhere he hoped wasn’t on any body of water – because that would be really anticlimactic.

It didn’t matter where they went, not really. Victor could take him to that little hut right now and Yuuri wouldn’t care as long as it meant he was staying with him whatever came next. _Please let this mean he is not giving up on me with me whatever comes next._

“Hey, Yuuri,” Victor urged, but Yuuri wasn’t willing to open his eyes just yet, “What do you say we take the longer way home… via Hungary?”

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Yuuri never thought he would be visiting Hungary in person, never gave much thought about it, really, but then again he never thought he would do many things in life. Victor peacefully sleeping on the perch of his shoulder was here to prove him wrong.

They left Barcelona and fled to Budapest over the course of a crazy night. The only person who knew of their destination was Yurio, because Yuuri insisted he’d call should he need anything, on the brief moments they shared after skating their exhibition programs.

 _What would I ever need you for, pig?,_ the punk had replied, ruffling his hair, still very much in character from the shocking routine he just performed.

 _No reason at all_ , Yuuri had answered, glazing over Otabek with an evaluating expression. When the Kazakhstani nodded solemny at something Victor had said and the Russian patted his arm, Yuuri dropped the look. If Victor thought the kid was okay, then he wouldn’t worry much.

 _Just don’t do anything we wouldn’t do_ , Victor added playfully once he got there, pulling the blond into a very squeamish embrace.

 _Jesus, Victor, just fucking stop, you’ll be gone for like two days_ , Yurio pushed the older man away with a scowl. Yuuri’s heart tugged a little at that. Yurio had hastily assumed Victor would be returning to St. Petersburg after that. He couldn’t blame the boy, that’s what he would assume too.

Yuuri stared at the sleeping man on his arms and held him a little closer.

“Yuuri,” Victor breathed, stirring in the seat, “Are we there yet?”

“Well, I wouldn’t know,” Yuuri glanced at the window. “This isn’t looking very promising yet.”

They had flown to Vienna and from there had taken the train to Budapest, to Victor’s many complaints about their journey not being _smooth_ enough for his liking. _Imagine if we were going to Romania after all,_ Yuuri mocked, because this was Victor’s idea to begin with.

He didn’t mind travelling long distances, being used to flying from Japan to America many times, but Victor certainly got fidgety after a few hours of confinement, demanding Yuuri’s attention and insisting on playing games to scare away boredom (and various passengers).

When the man finally succumbed to sleep, Yuuri finally started to consider the view around him, as the sun finally set. He wouldn’t lie, it wasn’t impressing him much from what he could observe. Many stations they drove past in countryside Hungary were under serious reformation, like they had been falling to pieces in a post-apocalyptic setting. The wintery landscape wasn’t helping to change his opinion either, with short, dry, yellow vegetation spreading as far as the eye could see. It really didn’t feel like the most romantic place to be spending a vital trip with the man he was dying to keep.

“You know,” Victor kept his head still on Yuuri’s shoulder, noting his unease, but his hand travelled to caress Yuuri’s arm absent-mindedly, “I’ve been to Budapest once before. I’m glad your magic finger was clever enough to pick it.”

“Hmm?” Yuuri encouraged, eyes still locked at the honestly depressing view.

“It is one of my favorite cities in the world,” the Russian confessed with a smile.

“You say that about every city.”

“Not _every_ city,” Victor corrected heartily, “Just the ones that manage to surprise me.”

“I feel like you’re gonna have a special story about every place in the world we go to,” Yuuri looked down at him at last. “But what do you mean by that?”

“I’ve always had this theory about love… it also applies to the places I travel to,” Victor explained, as he fiddled with Yuuri’s ring. “It’s probably the reason why I stayed single for so long. I once decided the secret to the most enrapturing passions were their unpredictability. The ones that caught you unaware, slowly involved you, and when you realized, you were irrevocably gone – arrow to the heart, no refunds. It’s what I’ve… always been looking for. In relationships, in life in general.”

“I see,” Yuuri assented, wondering how that related to their present situation.

“Many important things in my life started this way, skating being one of them. You know how much I enjoy travelling, so that’s the same. When it comes to every city I visit, I usually give them one chance… to make me fall in love with them. It’s very significant to me that I do, but it doesn’t happen all the time. So in some ways, I feel like I’ve had an ongoing affair with Barcelona for years, as you were able to observe. It has never failed to surprise me and it still delights me every time. But with Budapest… it just came out of nowhere and stuck… I’ve always wanted to go back, but I never did.”

“Should I… leave you alone with your inappropriate thoughts about nights of passion with inanimate cities?”

Victor blurted out a surprised laugh. “Oh, Yuuri, my Yuuri, I’m not leaving you for an immaterial concept, don’t worry. It’s just… when you’re alone for a long time, it makes you see a lot of things in a different way… to keep the loneliness at bay. You wouldn’t know that, of course, but I find tremendous joy in my little metaphors for trips. I plan to make you to fall in love with Budapest as well, so you don’t feel left out,” he finished with a wink.

“So we can all have a threesome together, eh?” Yuuri chirped, but then remembered he wasn’t cheeky for a reason and blushed furiously.

“Whatever floats your boat, baby,” Victor replied practically sobbing with laughter. “You’re so endearingly funny, Yuuri. Please promise me you’ll never change. But no, I was actually rather hoping I’d keep you all for myself, if you don’t mind.”

“If I don’t mind,” Yuuri repeated inanely, “If I don’t… God, you’re so…” he leaned over the man heavily, overcome with fondness at his understatement. “But hey, Victor, what did you mean I wouldn’t know about keeping the…”

Yuuri was abruptly interrupted by an awfully loud voice on the speakers blaring in Hungarian, a language of which neither Yuuri nor Victor could ever hope to understand, and the train coming to a screeching halt.

“Finally,” Victor cried out, already standing up to gather their luggage and follow the small crowd toward the automatic doors. “Come, Yuuri, we have so much to see!”

“But it’s night already.”

“It doesn’t matter what time it is where we’re going. I want to show the best view in town, and it’s even better when it’s dark out.”

“The view that’s gonna make me fall madly in love with Budapest, you mean?”

“The one and only.”

“That’s a lot of responsibility right there, because this train station and all the others I’ve ever been to still look like one and the same to me,” Yuuri teased, nudging his arm as they walked.

“You’ll understand once we get there.”

“Okay, okay.”

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Victor, why did you take me to a bus parking lot?”

They had taken the subway to Victor’s apparently favorite place in Hungary, to Yuuri’s complete bewilderment once it was made clear that he wasn’t joking.

In front of him, while he was still climbing up the subway’s exit stairs, stood a very dark square, that looked like some kind of storehouse, with a few public buses parked to their far left. A river stretched to their sides, surrounded by tall walls of concrete and a few pedestrians crossing by, but otherwise the place was mostly empty and honestly, kinda creepy.

“Are you sure this is the best view in all of Budapest?” Yuuri started carefully, taking in the sight at his disposal, and Victor, who looked overly excited, but then again, he had his back turned to the square.

“Absolutely,” Victor declared, staring astonished at something right through Yuuri.

Well, it seemed like he was the one looking at the wrong direction here.

Yuuri turned around.

Wow.

Okay.

He was met with the most impressive architectural construction he had ever dared to lay eyes upon.

Across the water, which now he recognized to be the famous Danube River from the classical waltz, stood a massive, grandiose, unbelievably imposing building, as large as the river itself, looming above them even from a considerable distance. It was entirely illuminated by bright yellows lights, which added to the magnificent Neo-Gothic features that Yuuri found so fascinating to study in college.   

“That would be Hungarian Parliament, Yuuri,” Victor explained with a glint of pride, “It’s even larger than the British one, and if you’re asking me, way more enchanting.”

“It is,” Yuuri breathed, “It really is.”

“We could go closer tomorrow if you want to, but really, this is the best spot to view it. I found it by accident when I first came here, and reacted to it pretty much the same way you did. I remember Chris gave me the general subway stop, but not which exit I should take. I emerged and found… well, this,” Victor gestured to the underwhelming square behind them. “I thought he was pranking me, when I finally turned around. I was here for hours, just admiring it from that fence, being thoroughly inspired by everything around me. It was right after my second Grand Prix, when I still felt like I could keep surprising people with my work. And then… I vowed myself that I would only come back here when I found someone else whom I wanted to feel inspired by it like I do.”

“And now I’m here.”

“And now you’re here.”

“I’m honored,” Yuuri took his hand, “ _And_ inspired. Although it’s only partially due to the view.”

“Is that so?” Victor pressed with a mischievous half-smile. “What inspires Yuuri Katsuki more than the thrilling discovery I had to offer him?”

“You know what.”

“I still want to hear you say it.”

“Only the man himself who was so kindly offering,” Yuuri conceded, then kissed him softly on the lips for good measure. “But don’t let him get too cocky.”

“Some people might argue that he couldn’t get any _more_ cocky if he tried.”

“Then those people don’t know him at all,” Yuuri kissed his temple, because he just couldn’t help himself, he was too happy.

“ _Solnyshko, ty sovershenstvo dlya menya,_ ” Victor whispered to his skin in a conspiratorial, but undeniably fond tone. It drove Yuuri absolutely insane.

“I wonder when you’re gonna tell me what you’re saying when you’re speaking Russian like that,” Yuuri mused in a tight voice.

“Why? Does it make you anxious when you don’t know what I’m saying?”

“No, no, it doesn’t make me anxious,” Yuuri amended hurriedly, “It’s not that. It just makes me… well…”

“Well?” Victor raised a perfectly styled eyebrow at him.

“I… I like it, is all.”

“You’re aroused by it,” Victor concluded.

“Yeah, I… Wait. I didn’t say that! I just meant… Victor, I just meant I think Russian is beautiful, and that I like hearing you speak it! No that I…”

“Yuuri has a language _kink._ ”

“No! I don’t have a,” he whispered then, like he was saying a pretty bad curse word, “a _kink_.”

“ _Da_ , you do, _solnyshko_ ,” Victor was just being silly now. Yuuri did _not_ , or maybe just a tiny bit, but that didn’t mean he was…

“I’m hungry,” Yuuri found himself saying instead. “Do you think we can have dinner now?”

“Sure,” Victor seemed unaffected by the sudden change of subject, “What do you wanna have, _zolotse_?”

Yuuri decided to ignore that.

“I know we’re still in the middle of the season, but… I’ve had this urge for a while now, and we _are_ on vacation.”

“What do you want, Yuuri?”

“Pizza.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Thankfully, there was a pizzeria hidden right across the street, behind an unfortunately positioned bus.

Victor seized Yuuri’s coat as they walked in and made a move for him to sit down in a little wooden table next to the window covered by a striped tablecloth, while he greeted the waiter and asked him something in what resembled Italian.

“Comfortable?” the Russian asked when he finally sat down in front of Yuuri, passing him a handcrafted red menu.

“Yeah, I’m a lot less cold now we’re inside,” Yuuri flushed a little, unsure of how to respond to Victor’s maximized chivalry. _Sometimes I forget,_ Yuuri thought to himself, regarding Victor’s reputation as the most charming playboy of all of Russia, _but then I am reminded_.

_I wonder how many people he has seduced this way. No, no, best not to linger with such thoughts. Victor is with me now._

“I would like pepperoni, if it’s okay with you,” Yuuri asked, pretending to peruse the foreign menu in both Hungarian and Italian.

“I know you do, I already ordered that part,” Victor smiled knowingly, then grabbed his own menu from the table.

“Then why do we have menus?”

“So we can choose from their wine selection, of course… Ah, _grazie mille, signore_.”

The same waiter from before arrived with a tabletop candle and a single rose inside a ceramic vase. He left before Yuuri could say anything.

“Victor, what is this?” Yuuri asked a little dumbly.

“I told him we had just gotten engaged and were looking for something romantic to set the mood.”

“Oh.”

“Is it working?”

“What?”

“Do you think it’s more romantic now?”

“I… I think you’re a ridiculous man.”

“Yes, but we have already established that,” Victor smirked.

“It’s perfect, Victor, I love it,” Yuuri admitted at last, blushing. “Thank you. For everything. You’re being amazing. I don’t deserve it.”

“Oh, but you do, Yuuri,” Victor disagreed, “You know, when you’re being like this, I’m sharply reminded of when I was a little boy.”

“How so?”

“My dad used to come home with a bouquet of roses every other night, and it would make mama flush like a tomato and snap at him every time, but she prepared a special dessert for him as thank you every time he did. I actually took after him and started to give her roses myself when I was five.”

“That must have been really cute. Now I know where you get it from,” Yuuri extended his hand towards the older man’s. “I’m grateful you have such happy memories from them.”

“It’s okay, Yuuri, it’s been a very long time,” he clarified with a soft smile, taking Yuuri’s hand anyway.

“You never told me what happened… that is, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“I don’t. I just never bothered to let the media know. It was a plane crash when I was seven. I was raised by my _grandmère_ ever since, and in some way, by Yakov too, I suppose. They’re always in my mind, though, and that calms me somehow.”

“Don’t you think it’s a little strange?” Yuuri asked suddenly, then elaborated, “That you love to travel so much, even though you lost people close to you because of it? I mean, I don’t know what I would have done, had it been me.”

“You know, competitive skating is killing us as well, Yuuri, a little bit every day,” Victor pondered, looking down, “And someday, it will cost us our knees, our hips, perhaps even our sanities once we leave it behind, but… still we do it. Why?”

“Because we need it. I guess you’re right. I didn’t see it like that, but it makes sense,” Yuuri granted, then was silent for a few moments. “Well, yolo.”

That made Victor look up really fast, stare at Yuuri’s soul for five long seconds with his cerulean blue eyes, and then succumb into a _powerful_ fit of laughter that scared the entire restaurant and made half the room frown in their direction.

“You know, Yuuri, I love you,” he stated, wiping a tear from his left eye and keep laughing until their order arrived.

“That indeed is a deep conversation to have over pizza,” Yuuri pointed out, laughing a bit himself, “But I feel like, with you, that always seems to be the case.”

“That’s because I feel like I can talk to you about anything.”

“Yeah… me too.”

Yuuri tried to concentrate on his slice of pizza for a couple minutes, but to no avail. “I’ve been meaning to ask you, Victor… because there are so many things I don’t know about you and sometimes it’s hard for me to understand…”

“That’s mostly my fault, I reckon,” the Russian interrupted, spilling a gulp of his wine on the tablecloth without realizing. “It’s not like I’m hiding myself from you, Yuuri, I never wanted you to think that. But you _are_ welcome to ask me anything you want. I won’t evade anymore. I know I tend to dodge questions and give ambiguous answers to anything remotely personal, but that hasn’t been the case with you, Yuuri. Not for a very long time.”

“I know, Vitya, it’s okay, that’s not what I meant,” Yuuri emphasized, “I just wanted to understand… I know we’ve had this conversation before, but I still don’t understand what exactly about me has drawn you to me apart from my skating. And made you stay. It’s stupid, I know. I won’t remind you of my reasons again – I know you don’t like hearing how insecure I actually am – but I just wanted you to explain to me to the best of your abilities, if you could.”

“Okay,” Victor dropped his silverware and waited until he had Yuuri’s full attention to continue. “Let’s make something clear here.”

Yuuri shivered a little in his seat. There was something about his tone that was very unsettling, although not unkind. He knew he was in for a lecture when he heard the first traces of Victor’s practiced coach voice, the one that demanded, that asked for six impossible things before breakfast and made Yuuri try them all the same.

“You still think I’m doing you some kind of favor by staying with you. That I could be anywhere else and be happier than I am with you. _Don’t_. Yuuri, I… I don’t think _you_ understand the position you’re in… how much leverage you hold over me. You see, I need you. A lot more than you need me. You should never forget that.”

“I find that… a little hard to believe,” Yuuri confessed lowly, not wanting to be unfair when Victor was opening up to him.

“But you should. I used to envy you a little bit, at first. Just a little bit,” Victor dropped his head with an ashamed smile, but quickly turned his confident gaze toward Yuuri again. “You were so loved by everyone around you, Yuuri. You should see how your friends and family talk about you when you’re not around. You’re so precious to them. You’ve never been alone. When you enter a room, you manage to charm your way into everyone’s hearts with a flick of your finger. I can’t name a single person who truly dislikes you. I used to envy that about you, but then you went and lent me some of your love. And your life. You did it selflessly too, like you do everything else, expecting nothing in return. Now, Makkachin looks healthier than I’ve ever seen him, thanks to your sister’s care. Your mother calls me _son_. Because of you, Yura and I are close again. I’m excited to be skating again. I need you more, because, you see… without you, there’s nothing left.”

Yuuri let his words sink in for a while, staring in shock at his half-finished plate.

“So I’m asking you, Yuuri, who do you think has the real power here?”

_How is that person he’s describing… me?_

“That is… a lot to take in at once. I never considered that you might… Victor, to me, it was always _very_ clear that you could always have _anyone_ in the world at your feet, that I shouldn’t lose sight of that. That what we had was temporary. I knew you loved me in some way, but I felt like I had to keep surprising you to keep your interest.”

“Yuuri,” Victor called, exasperated, “You’re eating pizza with your hands in front of me and there’s grease all over your fingers.”

“Okay, so I’m gross,” Yuuri dropped the slice he was munching on because he was too unstable to balance cutlery right now, “Your point being?”

“That somehow I find myself more in love with you than I’ve ever been,” Victor smiled, taking a sip from this wine. “Yuuri, this is it for me. I stopped looking. But you, _solnyshko,_ you’re young. You don’t think I have my own insecurities about us? You still have time, if you want to figure yourself out. So are you _sure_ this is what you want?”

“Victor, please,” Yuuri gasped, “ _Please_ don’t underestimate how much I truly need you just because I’m no good with words. I never wanted anyone else and I know I never will. It’s just you. It would kill me to let you go now. You’re as stuck with me as I am with you.”

“Okay,” Victor said with a note of relief. “So does that mean you’re gonna stop feeling nervous around me?”

“You don’t make me _nervous._ ”

“Baby, I’ve been letting you initiate contact since Barcelona because you seem to _jump_ every time I get too close now. I’m your fiancé, I’m supposed to make you feel safe,” Victor muttered with a hint of annoyance.

_Fiancé, he said that word again._

“So if you think you still need my endorsement on this: if you feel like touching me, touch me. If you feel like kissing me, then kiss me. You don't need to ask for permission, just take it, I will never refuse. I understand that you're not ready for more yet, but don’t refrain yourself from doing what you want thinking I'll be disappointed. I will only ever want what you want. And if you're never ready, then that's fine too,” Victor assured, sending Yuuri’s mind on a completely different track.

“Actually, Victor, I've been thinking,” Yuuri couldn’t believe he was about to say this, but the door was finaly open and he couldn’t regret it anymore. “Do you think we could... tonight? When we get back to the hotel. We haven't gone all the way yet, so I was thinking maybe you could... I want it. I'm certain now. I want you to do it. Is that okay?”

“Yes,” Victor gasped.

The older man was silent for many seconds, just staring dumbfounded at Yuuri, who didn’t know what to do with himself. _Did I break him?_

Yuuri thought of blinking, breathing, anything, but Victor then called the waiter immediately for the bill. In Russian. He cursed himself and Yuuri laughed.

“What, you wanna get out of here already?” Yuuri was savoring a bit too much this newfound sense of power over his coach, “But I'm enjoying our evening so much.”

“Do you want to stay?” Victor asked, carefully polite, raising his eyebrow at the younger man.

“No. Let's go back.”

“I swear to _God_ , Yuuri.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

After finally being explicitly permitted by the man himself, Yuuri’s months of pent-up frustration came crashing down like a broken dam. He couldn’t keep his hands off Victor on the subway, on the hotel lobby, on the elevator, so much it apparently amused Victor to no end.

It was all fun and games to him, to Yuuri’s complete dismay, until Yuuri plastered himself on the Russian’s back in front of their hotel room, with just a suggestion of rhythmic movement coming from his lower half, so Victor would quit laughing at him and take him seriously.

The Russian was trying to open the door with an old-fashioned golden key, but his whole body went rigid from Yuuri’s assaults, and missed the doorknob three times before tumbling in with Yuuri pressing him to the wall beside them.

“Why do I have a feeling,” Yuuri started, locking his arms around Victor’s neck, “you’re the one who’s nervous about this?”

Victor’s eyes widened and he kissed Yuuri’s forehead with a gentleness that didn’t seem to belong to this room and what was about to happen in it.

“It’s your first time, Yuuri,” Victor said next to his ear, “The one that really counts. I don’t want to scare you, but you do seem to have a mind of your own. It’s hard to control myself when you’re like this, but I’ll do my best to make it perfect for you.”

“Victor, no,” Yuuri whined, showering the man’s neck with kisses, “Don’t control yourself. Don’t worry about making it perfect. It’ll be perfect anyway, it’s you.”

Victor hadn't stopped worrying since Yuuri had just told him outside that kiss on Beijing had been his first - and that Victor would be his first everything else as well.

“But I knocked you down on the ice! You could have hurt yourself. I was too rough, I had no idea. It must not have been pleasant, our teeth clashed and I crushed you. I'm sorry.”

“Victor, it was perfect,” Yuuri went on his toes to prove his point and kiss Victor hungrily on the lips. “And so was this one... and this one...”

“Are you sure you haven't done this before?” Victor managed to ask between kisses, still acting so uncharacteristically hesitant about something he so excelled at performing.

Yuuri nodded, shy for the first time tonight about his utter lack of experience. Victor was stoically meeting his advances – did Yuuri read this wrong? Did he think Yuuri was a complete failure at this and was afraid of hurting him by saying it?

Victor smiled faintly, trapping Yuuri’s face with both of his hands to make him look at him.

“I guess I was always right then...” he murmured, “you _are_ Eros.”

Something shifted in Victor in that moment and his touches became frantic, his arms an inescapable prison Yuuri would frankly never dream of leaving. Sensing a moment of weakness in his resolve, Victor turned Yuuri’s back to the wall and grabbed him by the hip so Yuuri had no choice but to wrap his legs around him, lifting him up so easily like they often did in practice. He then attacked Yuuri’s mouth with unprecedented purpose, exploring every inch of it with his artful tongue, demanding, conquering… and that was the moment the younger man realized he _really_ had been holding back all those times before, because Yuuri was drowning, it was so much, he couldn’t breathe.

Losing slowly all ties that bound him to reality, Yuuri barely acknowledged it when Victor carried him to the bed without ever breaking their kisses, only to be sharply reminded of where they were and what they were doing when his back hit the mattress with a load creak, their shirts were missing, and Victor was staring down at him with unmistakable intent.

“A bit different from the time we fooled around before, no?” Victor said smugly, removing his belt and throwing it away somewhere on the floor.

“A bit,” Yuuri heard himself reply in a coarse voice.

It was then he noticed the tent stretching out the front of Victor’s trousers, and without thinking about, he stood up to meet the kneeling man and _wanted_.

He’s never seen this part of Victor like this, so prominently hard, not even when he so shamelessly ground against it not even a week before. It was so messy and they were still so emotional from their fight in Barcelona, Yuuri could only lie back in painful arousal and let Victor do all the work while they were still half-dressed.

But right now, as he looked at the evident bulge still hiding behind two-layers of expensive fabric, Yuuri knew exactly what he wanted to do. Without looking up to face the man in case he cowered in the face of his own lewdness, he lowered Victor’s pants on a whim and started mouthing at the Russian’s length through his boxers. That earned a surprised moan from Victor, who immediately grabbed his shoulder and clamped it with force.

“Yuuri,” he warned, to Yuuri’s no response. It felt so good to pleasure Victor it surpassed his own needs and desires, which tightened achingly around his jeans, forgotten. Meeting zero resistance, he lowered his underwear as well and shifted his attention to Victor’s cock, lapping at it with an enthusiasm he hoped overcame his glaring ineptitude at this.

He tried taking it in his mouth, but the angle was wrong and he ended up gagging himself a little, still not failing to make Victor groan audibly with everything he seemed to do.

“ _Zvezda moya,_ please stop,” Victor urged. Yuuri thought he could cry. “You’re doing so good, baby, so good, but I’m gonna come too soon if we keep at this pace.”

Yuuri let his cock go with an upset pop, then finally looked Victor in the eye and was miserable no longer. The man was completely naked looming above him with such desperation in his demeanor, his hair disheveled beyond all hope and sticking to every direction, it was like Yuuri’s every fantasy come to life. He couldn’t believe Victor was his, that he wanted to do _this_ with him. He blinked in awe and let his eyes remain closed for a second. When he opened them, Victor was still there.

Actually, he was moving. Yuuri was gently led back into the mattress once more and Victor carefully undid his zippers and slipped him out of his briefs. He stroked Yuuri’s cock once, twice, until he was painfully hard again.

“I need to prepare you now,” Victor prompted, “that is, if you’re still sure about this.”

Yuuri took the hand that wasn’t working on him and squeezed it firmly, in order to reassure him.

“You’ll let me take care of you, _solnyshko_?”

“Yeah, Vitya, I trust you,” he pulled the other man into a deep kiss. “C’mon, I want it, stop teasing me.”

“Okay, okay.”

Victor left the bed and went to get their supplies on the top of his luggage, a bottle of lube and a package of condoms he bought earlier on the airport when he thought Yuuri wouldn’t notice.

“Do we have to?” Yuuri asked a little tentatively, contemplating the wrapped latex on his hands. “I know you’re clean, I’ve seen your exams. And I’m… a virgin, so... unless you feel like you have to…”

“It’s up to you, really,” Victor sat back on the bed, opening the bottle of lube with care, “It’s not like I’ll ever be with anyone else anymore.”

_God, Victor._

Yuuri wasn’t sure he would be able to go through this without crying at least once. He swallowed hard and blinked away the wetness starting to form in his eyes. “Okay, so I don’t want it,” he managed.

Victor nodded. His fingers were already slick with lube, Yuuri noticed.

He pulled Yuuri into a soothing embrace, positioning himself just so Yuuri could feel the warmth of his body over him, hand skirting down to his groin as he starting kissing the younger man to distract him.

He peppered his collarbone with kisses, his jawline, his neck, his fingers trailing further and further until Yuuri felt them at his entrance and moaned quietly. The first one slipped in with ease, not that uncomfortable a sensation as Yuuri was used to doing that to himself, but still, this felt like something else entirely. This was _Victor_ , who claimed to _love_ him, and he was inside him.

He fucked Yuuri methodically with his digit until Yuuri had to beg for another, and this one came scissoring its way through him. Yuuri let out a shocked yelp and soon enough was bucking against the fingers to meet their every other thrust.

By the third finger, Yuuri got impatient and started making needy noises at every movement, feeling too much but at the same time not nearly enough.

“Vitya, I’m ready.”

“I’ll say when you’re ready, love,” Victor announced seriously, too concentrated at his task to bother with Yuuri’s pleas, but he knew better.

He kept at it for a few long minutes, until he was positive Yuuri was loose enough and would not feel too much pain when he breeched in, although Yuuri was a sobbing mess by this point.

“Shhhh, it’s okay, _kotyonok_ ,” he cooed, fingers at last stilling inside him and then retreating, leaving Yuuri cold and empty and exposed to the thick air of the night. “I’m going in now.”

Victor took advantage of his position and was already lined up before Yuuri could realize it. He spread his legs further, so to give him better access, but Victor made a sign for him to wrap them both around his waist, his icy blue eyes never leaving Yuuri’s in a silent request.

“Do it.”

Victor carefully, maddeningly, slowly pushed through the bundle of nerves and it was nothing like his fingers had been. It was _big_ , and it was engulfing Yuuri whole. Yuuri felt his mouth form a perfect “oh” around the sensation, Victor helplessly moaning along with him, then felt his eyes roll back to his head when his lover was finally seated all the way inside.

“How does it feel, _solnyshko_?” Victor breathed.

“Full.”

“You like it?”

“Yeah, I… move, Victor, _please_.”

Victor started thrusting, timidly at first, probably worried Yuuri might break, but Yuuri took one look at him and knew the man was on the very last ounce of his self-control. Yuuri made the decision to throw it out the window for him. Feeling bolder than he ever did in his life, he purposefully squeezed on Victor’s length, drawling a cry from his lover, and started thrusting himself.

It was hazy then, what happened next. Yuuri let himself be guided by instincts and had no idea how long it’s been when their frantic movements of push and pull reached their halt and Yuuri called out Victor’s name in an absolute moment of pleasure, nearly blinding him with the sheer force of it.

Victor fucked him right through it, his overly stimulated gland begging for release, but Yuuri didn’t mind, because Victor was so beautiful when he came, so perfect.

 _He’s mine,_ a satiated part of Yuuri’s brain provided.

There was still so much he wanted to say to Victor, so much he wanted to ask, and he couldn’t think of a better moment than while they were still joined together at their cores to bring it up, coming out of their high together and gasping for air.

Instead, overcome with exhaustion from their eventful day, that started in Barcelona, passed through Vienna and ended in Budapest, the last thing Yuuri would feel in that freezing December night was Victor’s hot breath against his ear as he whispered him something.

 

He fell asleep.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

When Yuuri woke up the next morning, it was to the sight of two cerulean globes beaming directly at his soul.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” Victor cooed.

Yuuri groaned, it was too early for this. “I wish you’d stop calling me that,” he said, burying his face in his pillow.

But then it hit him.

Victor and he had sex last night.

Sex. He had sex with Victor.

Yuuri, who was a complete moron and managed to fall asleep in the immediate aftermath, leaving Victor to take care of everything that ensued, from pulling out to cleaning them up, then apparently covering Yuuri in a sea of blankets to compensate for his nudity and ensure he wouldn’t get cold.

Victor, who was the biggest sap he knew, and possibly had every intention of having a post-sex cuddle session with the man who was wearing his ring, if his strong hold on Yuuri’s body this morning was anything to go by.

And Yuuri, who was so ready to finally have that heart to heart conversation and ask him about their future while they were still soft and elated from intimacy.

Oh, _no_. Yuuri had screwed up big time.

He snuggled closer to Victor and threw an arm across the man’s neck.

“Victor,” he mumbled, “I’m sorry.”

“What for?” Victor seemed unaffected by Yuuri’s sudden panic and just kissed him softly in the forehead, reveling in their proximity.

“Falling asleep,” Yuuri managed. He was so embarrassed; it was hard to even look at the Russian.

“You were too tired, baby. I slept in the train, remember? You didn’t.”

“But still…”

“You have this thing where you make people want to take care of you, _solnyshko_. I couldn’t dare wake you, you looked so _blissfully_ happy in your dreams.”

“I was,” Yuuri said, at little dumbly, “I _am_. Happy, I mean.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“So was it good for you?”

Yuuri laughed incredulously, pinching him meekly in his sides.

“I know, I’m _ridiculous_ ,” Victor echoed with practically tangible quotation marks, laughing along with him. “But you know you love my lines.”

“I was gonna say it was pretty damn spectacular, but I don’t think you deserve it after that,” Yuuri joked, hoping to convey his meaning anyway.

“Pretty damn spectacular, huh?”

“Yep. And if you weren’t so cringingly _lame_ , I would kiss you right now and ask you if we could do it again tonight.”

“Good thing you don’t need to ask, then,” Victor replied, brushing Yuuri’s hair away from his eyes, “But you could still kiss me, though.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Out of pity, of course,” Victor mused, “I just can’t help the way I was born. The lameness, it runs through my veins. And I don’t understand why you’re laughing so much. You’re the one who’s engaged to _me_.”

“You poor, _lame_ , sad creature,” Yuuri lamented, pulling him to an earth-shattering kiss either way. Victor hummed into his mouth, cupping Yuuri’s face with his hand. When Victor finally slipped him his tongue, Yuuri realized he tasted like fresh mint, not sleep-sour like Yuuri probably did.

He tried to end the kiss then a couple of times, painfully self-conscious, but Victor was a man on a mission. He used his hand to angle Yuuri’s face where he could kiss him even deeper and Yuuri sent his worries to the far back of his mind when he felt the cold press of Victor’s ring across his cheek.

He had to break it eventually, though, when he felt his cock gradually displaying an ever-growing interest in their activities.

“Victor,” he called soberly, in hopes to distract him, “What times is it?”

The Russian gave him one final kiss before rolling over Yuuri to reach his phone. “Right now it’d be 11:15 AM.”

“What?!” Yuuri almost yelled. “So late?”

“I just couldn’t find it in me to wake you, I told you that.”

“That’s why you’ve showered,” Yuuri noted, realizing Victor was already dressed to the day as well. “God, I’m ruining our trip.”

“I beg to disagree,” Victor grinned even as Yuuri stumbled naked through the room in a dash, gathering a few clothes and taking them to the bathroom.

Yuuri locked himself in without thinking about it and was under the shower spray under 30 seconds. He heard outside the door a muffled, “I’ll… just wait here then.”

 

  

* * *

 

 

Yuuri was walking fast through the busy streets with Victor following close behind. He hadn’t stopped complaining since Yuuri had a brilliant idea during lunch.

“Yuuri, I know you think we’re late to start exploring, but this really isn’t necessary.”

“But I Googled it and the reviews were great!” Yuuri tried. “Besides, every major European city has it, so how bad can it be?”

“Still, I maintain my right to refuse. It’s a blow to my ego. I know I haven’t been here in a long time and my Hungarian consists of a single word I’m not sure I pronounce correctly, but _surely_ we’ll find our way around anyway.”

“But Victor!” Yuuri insisted. “We’re only here for today, our plane leaves tomorrow morning. This is the only way we’ll be able to see everything and you know it.”

“We’re not going on a ‘hop-on hop-off’ sightseeing bus, Yuuri.”

“Stubbornness will lead you nowhere.”

“You’re one to say.”

“Look, this one has, like, the best route,” Yuuri pointed to the plaque indicating that spot in particular was one of the bus stops. “The red route is the day tour, it lasts two hours and goes through 27 stops that we can choose which ones we’d like to stop and visit, which is cool. It also features pre-recorded commentary in _23 languages_ , so I’m sure you’ll have fun with that. C’mon, Victor, I think it’s gonna be way more productive this way. And we won’t tire that much.”

“Do you really wanna ride this flashy red bus?”

“It’s not that bad. I’ve actually always dreamed of having the full tourist experience somewhere and sit on the second floor where it’s convertible and we can see the whole city from above.”

“Oh God, my fiancé is one of them,” Victor feigned despair, raising a dramatic palm to his own forehead. “Okay, Yuuri. I feel _very_ emasculated right now, so I hope you’re satisfied, but… I’ll be doing this for you, only because I think you’re cute. I have one condition, though: our evening plans are my business. And you’ll let me post whatever I want on Instagram for the next 24 hours.”

Yuuri considered his proposal. Letting him take over dinner was probably a good idea in the first place, but the Instagram bit was dangerous. There were things the Internet would never be able to unsee, especially when Victor was left to his own devices, and Yuuri was already part of one too many unfortunate BuzzFeed posts.

He knew Victor wouldn’t back off on his deal, though, especially when Yuuri recognized he would be doing something he really didn’t enjoy, being the self-asserting, independent, professional traveler that he was.

 _Okay, this is a lesson on compromise_ , Yuuri pondered. That would be a first, but somehow he knew it would serve them both well.

“Fine,” he finally said. “But you can’t complain anymore the moment we step into the bus. You’ll promise to try and have fun.”

“I promise I’ll _try_ not to complain a lot. The fun part is guaranteed wherever I’m involved, so that’s a bonus for you,” Victor smirked. Yuuri wondered if he was actually annoyed or just trying to rile him up. He could never tell with Victor.

Yuuri rolled his eyes but took his arm all the same. They walked over to a booth where Yuuri insisted on paying for their tickets since he was the one commandeering their fate for the afternoon, but Victor warned him again dinner was on him.

When the next bus in the schedule arrived, Yuuri raced to get the best seats upstairs and Victor actually laughed at his child-like excitement, shaking his head at him.

“Stop pouting,” Yuuri gave him a small peck on the lips. Victor looked gloomy again once they were finally set with map and earplugs in hands passed to them by the bus guide, a very nice girl who had engaged in brief conversation with Yuuri before heading back down again. “It doesn’t look good on you.”

“Don’t you think she was being a bit too friendly?” Victor pried.

“Who? Lena?” Yuuri asked, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, Yuuri,” Victor gave out a small sigh, but didn’t mention it anymore. “So, aren’t you going to make use of your amazing pre-recorded commentary in like a bajillion languages about every monument in the city?”

“I was actually rather hoping you’d be the one to explain it to me,” Yuuri bit his lip.

“Ah, now you want my help, don’t you?” Victor smiled.

“Please?” Yuuri gave him his best pleading look. “I’m only interested in learning about Budapest through your eyes, not twenty-three strangers’. Even though I’d only really be able to listen to two.”

“I’m being a bad influence on you, _solnyshko_ ,” Victor chastised, seeming endeared by his little stunt anyway, because Yuuri was nothing if a good student.

A harsh winter breeze blew upon them as they approached an open avenue, but Yuuri wasn’t about to regret his decision to stay on top. Victor could point out things much better this way and Yuuri was starting to love the city more by the minute.

“So, you see,” Victor’s voice went on after the bus made another stop to pick up more tourists, “the city is actually called Budapest because once there were two cities separated by a river: Buda and Pest. One day, people decided to build a bridge. The rest is, as they say, history.”

Yuuri laughed heartily at Victor’s little remarks and opinions about the places they were driving through, fascinated as always by the Russian’s impressive intellect hidden behind his everyday antics.

“So the hotel we’re staying is actually in Pest,” Yuuri concluded.

“Yes, it is,” Victor praised his attention. “Buda used to be the noblest part in town, built far up in the hills, where the castles of the great Hungarian kings could be found. Pest was where the commerce and trade happened among the common people, but today it is the most developed part in the city. You’ll notice, though, that there’s still a small rivalry between those who are born on either side of the bridge.”

“I guess that’s the same everywhere,” Yuuri noted. “The us vs them mentality. But you know, the only thing that’s actually separating people most of the time is only that - water.”

“I’m glad you think that way as well,” Victor squeezed his hand slightly, “What with us being from rival countries and all. Not that has ever been a problem. It’s just a refreshing change of perspective than what I’m used to.”

“You mean Yakov and Yurio?” Yuuri asked, “Because I don’t think they actually minded that you were helping Japan by coaching me, that wasn’t their biggest issue.”

“No, no, not that,” Victor clarified. “It’s just… the burden that comes from being “Russia’s Living Legend”, I think. I feel like I’ll never be done playing that part. They’ll always need me to represent something I don’t actually believe in. They’ll always need me to be there. I made that my responsibility, though, so I guess there’s no point in protesting anymore.”

 _They’ll always need me to be there,_ Victor’s voice echoed sorrowfully in Yuuri’s ears. The matter was starting to press harder in his mind. So Victor thought it was his duty to go back. But what would Yuuri do? Yuuri didn’t have a duty to Russia, but what of Japan? Yuuri, too, had a duty to his country.

Although, on the back of his mind, he suspected… his duty was to Victor and Victor alone.

“We’ll always be playing roles in our lives,” Yuuri provided after a moment of silence between them. “It comes from being who we are, what we do. But that’s not where our strength comes from. It comes from the fact that we don’t need to pretend around the people we love – that we can trust them to just be who they are and give them our _true_ selves in return. It’s the best we all can hope for, in the end.”

“When did my Yuuri get so wise?” Victor said softly, caressing Yuuri’s wrist distractedly with his thumb. “You were just a boy when I met you.”

“It was hardly a year ago.”

“You were a boy in my eyes,” Victor confessed with a slight blush, like that was something he thought he’d never dare voice aloud. “I’m so proud of how much you’ve grown.”

“Really?”

“Really. Yuuri, you’re my greatest pride. Hearing you talk about being comfortable with yourself and allowing people to love you back brings me _immense_ joy, like you wouldn’t believe.”

“You know it was all thanks to you.”

“No, Yuuri, it was all thanks to _you_ ”.

“It was at least 50% thanks to you, though.”

“20%,” Victor argued.

“40%.”

“25%.”

“30% and we won’t mention it again,” Yuuri conceded.

“I’ll take it,” Victor accepted. “Yuuri Katsuki is 70% hotness and 30% Victor Nikiforov hardwork.”

“I thought we just said we _wouldn’t_ mention it again,” Yuuri blushed.

Victor was just about to reply something undoubtedly witty when they heard the voice on the speakers announce they had arrived in the first point they wanted to stop. 

Yuuri waved to Lena on their way out and she beamed at him and said she hoped to see him again soon. He looked back to check on Victor a second later and caught the man giving her a powerful glare as the automatic doors closed.

Victor was grumpy for full fifteen minutes after that, but Yuuri was sure he was just overreacting. There was nothing wrong with being sympathetic towards your customers.

After that too had passed, they finally started having fun.

They visited Buda Castle on the top of the hills, where they had a wonderful view of the Parliament, which was just as monumental at day as it had been at night; they walked almost all the way through the Andrássy Avenue, which Victor said was like the Hungarian Champs-Élysées (to which Yuuri replied he said that about every avenue in every city – and so Victor kissed him and said he’d just have to take him to meet the real Parisian street in person to understand what he meant).

Night was starting to fall in Budapest after they were told the famous Budapest baths were closed for the season – and Yuuri hadn’t yet noticed Victor typing captions to any Instagram posts. Yuuri had a feeling he might have been bluffing, but it was still too soon to tell and he was mindful not to land in any compromising positions while Victor was fiddling with his phone around him.

“Say, Yuuri,” Victor said nonchalantly a while later, “It’s already getting pretty dark, don’t you think?”

“Very well observed, Sherlock.”

“So,” he continued on the same tone, “That would mean, by mutual agreement, that it’s my turn to show you how to have a good time around here.”

“I’m a man who prides himself in making good on his promises,” Yuuri nodded solemnly, “Alas, with great reluctance, I pass the baton to you. Show me _your_ Budapest, worthy contestant.”

“Gladly. You’re mine for rest of the night, _lyubov moya,_ ” Victor purred.

Yuuri swallowed hard.

 

 

  

* * *

 

 

“So, of all places in the world, you chose to take me to an ice-skating rink?

“It’s no _ordinary_ ice skating rink, Yuuri,” Victor corrected, after having just explained his plans.

Yuuri was about to argue that all ice rinks were the _same_ , when he was hit with the unexpected sight in the way only Budapest had a tendency of delivering.

It was a gigantic rink right in the middle of Budapest, with a beautiful view of the Vajdahunyad Castle in the background, where people from all ages were crowding close to each other trying to skate to cheerful Christmas melodies.

“This is the largest ice-skating rink in all of Europe,” Victor explained when he noticed Yuuri’s awe. “In summer time, it’s just an innocent lake boat and mostly empty, but during winter it turns into a popular venue for skating and parties.”

“Okay, I take it back,” Yuuri renounced, still focusing on the remarkable view in front of him. He was a professional figure skater, after all. “This is actually pretty cool. But are you sure we should be skating in what you said was our _time-off_?”

“This is skating _for fun_ ,” Victor chimed in, “Haven’t you ever heard of it?”

“Not from you, no,” Yuuri discorded with a raise of his eyebrow.

“Well, get used to it, then,” Victor grinned, pulling him by the hand toward the line.

If he would be watching Victor skate for fun, as the Russian claimed he hadn’t done in years, then Yuuri would gladly follow him to the ends of the Earth if that’s what it meant. He couldn’t help but gloat a little at the thought he had something to do that and that made him more impatient to get soon to the ice all of a sudden. He missed seeing Victor smile on the ice.

When they were all suited up with heavy helmets, elbow pads, knee pads and uncomfortable standard skates, that struck Yuuri as insanely funny for some reason and he spent the first two minutes on the ice just laughing his ass off at the sight of them.

“God, look at you, Victor,” he exclaimed, wiping a tear off his cheek and trying to stand up, “I really hope no one recognizes us, because how would I ever explain this?!”

“I hope you figure out how, because you’re writing the captions on this pic.”

“What pic?”

“This one,” Victor announced, grabbing his phone with a hand and Yuuri with the other, “Say cheese!”

Before Yuuri could even blink, there was in existence a picture of Yuuri Katskuki and Victor Nikiforov, Grand Prix Finals veterans, innocently ice-skating amidst a crowd of children, wearing the exact same gear as all the enthusiastic amateurs around them.

“You’re lucky I’m only posting this later, because I wouldn’t want to compromise our whereabouts so carelessly. But think about it, will you, Yuuri?”

“You’re…”

“Ridiculous, I know,” Victor smiled. He looked so damn happy Yuuri needed a moment to recompose himself. “By the way, will you hold my hand while we’re at this?”

“Why would you ever need my hand to be able to skate?”

“It’s just,” Victor had a devious smirk on his face, “I think it’s been too long. I might have forgotten how to do it. It’s so hard to balance on these blades. Will you help me, Yuuri?”

And that’s the story of how Yuuri ended up “teaching” Victor Nikiforov, five-time world champion, to both men’s greatest amusement and entertainment, how to stand on the ice and make simple circles while laughing along together.

When Victor got sick of pretending, he kissed Yuuri lightly on his lips and skated off to the other side of the rink, which seemed to be miles away from where they were playing, but Yuuri didn’t care to be left alone, he was jubilant.

Victor was the embodiment of grace as he skimmed through some new routine, marking the jumps as he went, then turned abruptly to face a couple of small kids who were watching him with interest.

Yuuri couldn’t make up what he was saying, but a minute later, he demonstrated a simple spin and the children copied him, although a lot more unstable.

Victor clapped at them gleeful and gave them a thumbs-up, before retrieving them to their parents and waving them all goodbye with the charming smile he was known for.

He collided with Yuuri when he came flying back, wrapping his arms around the younger man’s neck.

“Hi,” he chirped.

“Hey, you,” Yuuri breathed. “Having fun yet?”

“Plenty.”

“I’m glad,” Yuuri smiled fondly.

“Are you hungry?”

“A bit, but it can wait if you wanna stay a little longer.”

“I’m good,” Victor replied. “You?”

“Never been better.”

“Great, because I know this restaurant that’s gonna absolutely blow your mind…”

 

 

* * *

 

 

That night, they made love sweetly, a lot different from the passionate frenzy of the previous night. They took their time to explore each other’s bodies, the places that made Victor squirm and Yuuri throw his head back in pleasure.

It might as well have taken hours, for how Yuuri felt completely boneless and pliable afterwards, being manhandled into a spooning position by Victor. Even then the Russian couldn’t take his hands off Yuuri, nuzzling his neck and lazily peppering the skin there in kisses.

But Yuuri’s anxiety, of course, had to make an appearance right there and defile their perfect moment of bliss.

“Vitya…”

“Hmmmm…”

“We need to talk.”

Victor’s body went into a rigid line behind him, stopping with his lazy ministrations on his shoulder.

“Oh, boy,” he said in a small voice, “That never goes well, does it?”

“I know you said you wanted to keep skating as well as being my coach, but…”

“Can we not talk about work tonight, _solnyshko_?” Victor pleaded, tightening his hold on Yuuri’s waist. “Please?”

“It’s urgent, though,” Yuuri said. “I can’t stop thinking about it, it’s driving me crazy. We have a flight in the morning, but where are we going?”

“Back home to Japan, of course,” Victor frowned, “Makkachin is waiting for us.”

“And after that? What happens?”

Yuuri turned in the bed to face him and watched the older man’s eyes widen in acknowledgment.

“ _Oh_ ,” he gasped. “I thought it was clear. But I suppose I never _did_ ask, did I? It’s completely my fault for being an airhead. I’m sorry, _solnyshko_. I thought you knew.”

“By the way, what does it mean it mean when you call me that?” Yuuri might as well ask everything. “You call me other things too, but this one seemed to stick.”

“ _Moyo solnyshko_?” Victor elucidated. “It means my little sun.”

“You’ve been calling me your _sun_ for days now and I had no idea?”

“Also my little star, my gold, my kitten, my love…”

Yuuri tucked his head in Victor’s in chest in hopes he wouldn’t notice his eyes starting to swell despite of his best efforts to be calm about this.

“You know,” Yuuri whispered, “Sometimes I wonder exactly what you see when you look at me.”

Victor used his hand to toy gently with Yuuri’s curls. “Likewise.”

Yuuri let himself browse his memories from their last days in light of his newfound discoveries and pondered if Victor had been asking him a silent question this entire time. He still wasn’t sure. He was stupid, he knew.

“I am the _worst_ fiancé of all time,” Victor declared then dramatically.

“ _That_ ,” Yuuri pointed out. “What does that mean to you? When you say you’re my fiancé.”

“That we’re engaged?” Victor answered in total bewilderment.

“But, like, engaged to what end? Are we engaged to get married?”

“Yuuri, you cannot possibly be that dense,” Victor blurted out in exasperation. “I don’t wanna marry you _as a friend_.”

“No, no, I mean marry me as in _forever_ ,” Yuuri tried to explain. “You want to be my husband. Eventually. I didn’t get that wrong, did I?”

“We’re not doing this right,” Victor sighed and rolled to his back. He was desolately staring at the ceiling, looking to the entire world like the most miserable creature to have ever been in love.

“No, we didn’t do anything in the right order,” Yuuri agreed. “I’m sorry I’m being so dumb, it’s just that…”

“Give me your ring,” Victor ordered.

Yuuri didn’t like taking his token off, but did it without question at the Russian’s command.

“Yuuri Katsuki,” he said slowly, “Will you marry me, Victor Nikiforov, to be my wedded _husband_? Forever?”

Yuuri blinked.

“Was that clear enough?” Victor tested.

“Yes.”

“Yes, it was clear, or yes, will you…”

“Yes, as many times you need, yes,” Yuuri laughed. “Yes, I’ll marry you. I love you, Victor.”

He realized he hadn’t said the words aloud since that one time in Barcelona, when Victor sagged in relief in front of him, putting the ring right back where it belonged.

“ _Ya lyublyu tebya bol'she_ ,” Victor said, raising Yuuri’s hand to reverently kiss it.

“What does that mean?” Yuuri asked. “That you love me too?”

“That I love you _more_ ,” Victor answered, sealing their promise with a fiery kiss that Yuuri didn’t see coming, but indulged it happily for a few moments.

“Not possible,” Yuuri defied, mouthing the words to his skin.

Victor huffed, but didn’t say anything in response, moving his mouth to dote on different parts of Yuuri’s face.  

They stayed like that for a while, just breathing in time with each other, and Yuuri started to feel drowsy again.

Victor moved them back to their earlier position, tangling his legs around Yuuri’s and encircling his body from behind.

Yuuri felt sleep closing in around him and he was about to succumb to the peaceful darkness, when he heard Victor whisper in a quiet prayer, “Come to Russia with me.”

 _Oh_. The discussion that started it all. Yuuri almost forgot.

 _My duty is to Victor, and Victor alone_ , he suddenly remembered his thoughts from before and knew them to be true.

It all made sense now. He didn’t even have to think.

“I will,” Yuuri whispered back into the otherwise silent room. “We’ll make it work, Vitya. I won’t leave you.”

“ _Spasibo_ ,” Yuuri thought he heard a while later, not sure if he was already dreaming. He knew what that one meant. _Thank you_ , Victor said.

_Thank you for staying with me._

In the end, it wasn’t a question of whether Victor was staying with Yuuri. It was always whether Yuuri was staying with him.

Victor had made his choice a long time ago. And now Yuuri had made his.

It was always going to be the man who would never stop surprising him.

Yuuri fell asleep. His anxiety was nowhere to be found.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Yuuri’s phone buzzed for the first time in the last couple of days. He rolled to his side and didn’t run over Victor, which meant the Russian had already left the bed and was probably grabbing breakfast downstairs or in the bathroom.

It was Phichit. It consisted of a single message.

 

 **Phichit** : you dirty little boy

 

Yuuri frowned. How did Phichit know what they have been doing? Did he find out they were in Budapest?

 

 **Yuuri:** are u psychic?

 

He sent. He had no idea what was going on. His phone buzzed ten seconds later.

 

 **Phichit:** no, i am post-modern 

 **Phichit:** open your insta feed

 **Phichit:** you and victor just broke the internet

 **Phichit:** again

 

He scrambled to open the app as quickly as possible, thinking how a picture of him and Victor skating together like noobs could ever have that effect on social media history. That wasn’t what he found.

Instead, he was met with a picture of himself.

He was lying in bed at the distance, with his face almost entirely obscured by his hair. His arm was hanging off the blankets and almost hitting the floor, revealing the golden ring resting on his finger.

Above the bed, Budapest stretched around him beautifully through the window, which seemed to be the focus of the picture and Yuuri more of an easter egg who got in the way of the landscape.

But Yuuri knew his fiancé better.

He read the caption:

 

  **v-nikiforov |**  enjoying the view  #natureshot

  _♥_ 546,274 likes

  _posted 2h ago_

 

 **christophe-gc** i knew it!!! congratulations, brother! i wish you and yuuri all the happiness in the world (don’t forget to invite me next time) <3

 **phichit+chu** YUURI YOU’RE IN BUDAPEST ON YOUR SECRET HONEYMOON AND I FIND OUT ABOUT IT THROUGH AN INSTAGRAM POST?

 **phichit+chu** ANSWER YOUR PHONE DAMN IT

 **phichit+chu** you’re not my best friend anymore

 **yuri-plisetsky** wow victor gross

 **yuri-plisetsky** delete this

 

 

Yuuri yelled.

Somewhere far away, Victor was cackling. _A promise is a promise, lyubov moya._

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Next stop: Santorini, Greece.
> 
> This is my love letter to Budapest and Victuuri. I beg to remind you this work hasn't been beta'd and English is not my first language, so feel free to drop me any corrections as you see fit.
> 
> When Yuuri and Victor are at the Hungarian Parliament, Victor says: Solnyshko, ty sovershenstvo dlya menya (My little sun, you are perfect for me). The rest of the Russian dialogue is translated throughout the story, but these words weren't referenced specifically:
> 
> "zvezda moya" (my star)  
> "zolotse" (my gold)  
> "kotyonok" (kitten)  
> "lyubov moya" (my love)
> 
> Thank you so much for reaching this far! I really hope to be able to continue this travel!series. This was also my first time writing explicit smut, so please let me know how I did in that department G.G
> 
> Do svidaniya (Until we meet again)!


End file.
